<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Watch the Witches Burn by SpookyDarlings</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25363489">Watch the Witches Burn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookyDarlings/pseuds/SpookyDarlings'>SpookyDarlings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dead by Daylight (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Burnt offerings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Survival Horror, violent horror</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:54:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25363489</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookyDarlings/pseuds/SpookyDarlings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwight’s messing with powers he doesn’t understand. David’s there to pick up the pieces. In the Entity’s realm, a little hope can have dire consequences...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>David/Dwight, Dwight Fairfield/David King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Multifandom Horror Exchange (2020)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Watch the Witches Burn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreadlordTally/gifts">DreadlordTally</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I tried combining a few different prompts - enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>so close. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The chug chug chug of the generator rumbled through David’s ears, the siren song of victory. It was rhythmic, hypnotic, a steady beat that lured him into a false sense of security. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glanced across the generator to where Dwight was conducting his own repairs. His face was still flushed with exertion from when they’d given the killer the runaround earlier, and he kept wrinkling his nose in concentration, forcing him to stop and readjust his glasses every few moments. He didn’t fumble or tremble as the machinery whirred into life beneath his hands - this was when he was at his best. Well-practised. Confident. It was a side to him that David didn’t often see, and he was reluctant to turn away from it so soon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In hindsight, that’s probably how the killer got the drop on them. They heard the tell-tale gasp as the Nurse prepared to warp, and then in the same second David saw Dwight’s eyes widen in sudden alarm as he was dragged bodily from the generator. The world span as his attacker hauled him up into a fireman’s lift, and there Dwight was again, frightened, angry, but as-yet unseen by the killer. He had his flashlight clutched in both hands. David shook his head and nudged towards the generator. It was nearly done.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” David mouthed as he was carried off into the gloom. “Just get out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He groaned as the light of the campfire warped back into being. The hook wasn’t all bad, once you gave in to it, but the pain lingered for hours after you returned - the entity’s little reminder that sooner or later you’d be back in its clutches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’d it go then?” David rasped, his voice still worn from screaming. Kate shook her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dwight lost us the gen,” said Min, who was prodding at the dirt at her feet with a dry twig. “And got us caught.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David exhaled through his nose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All hooked then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The others didn’t reply. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alright then.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go talk to him,” he said, getting to his feet. What he wouldn’t give for a nice pint about now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘What you got there?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d found Dwight in the deep woods, where the campfire’s light barely made it through the tightly-packed trees. He was concentrating on something in his hands and still didn’t seem to have registered David’s presence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Boo.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dwight flinched as David spoke directly into his ear, and then relaxed a moment later as David planted a small kiss on his temple. He crouched down in the dirt beside the smaller man, reaching out for the object he’d been messing with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Surprisingly, Dwight snatched it up before he reached it. David raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that a blanket?” He asked, only half-joking. Dwight flushed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” He stammered, “i-it’s a - I think it’s a shroud.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck are you doing with a shroud, mate?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Recently Dwight had been getting better at the kind of banter David preferred to engage with, but now he just looked hurt, embarrassed - a little ashamed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought we could burn it.” He whispered. “So that we can - I mean, so that we can all stick together next time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna have to explain that one to me,” David said, edging closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so Dwight explained - he’d seen these journals scattered about in trials, taped to the inside of lockers and whatnot, and they talked about offerings. Things you could find around camp that made the trials less dangerous. Dried flowers. Statuettes. Shrouds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sounds like bullshit to me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>David thought, but he nodded along regardless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you reckon this is one of those… offerings?” He tugged at the corner of the cloth, sending a cloud of dirt and mould up around them. Dwight nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David looked at the shroud. He looked at Dwight’s muddy, calloused hands and the bloodstains on his shirt and the red blotches around his eyes. A little bit of hope might do him good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s give it a go then, shall we?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They burned the shroud that same night, as soon as they felt the pull of the next trial. It smelled like a wet dog in a charity-shop cardigan and went up with a plume of thick, acrid smoke, but Dwight visibly relaxed when the last few fragments disappeared into the flames. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the vertigo of entering the trial wore off, David found himself face-to-face with the three other participants, including a grinning Dwight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bloody hell, it worked! </span>
  </em>
  <span>David thought, and his expression must have said everything, because Ash gave him a hefty slap on the back as they all slunk off towards the first generator.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With Claudette keeping watch and Ash giving the killer the run-around when necessary, they were able to open the exit gates in a little under ten minutes. It was incredible, and even more incredibly, Dwight’s smile didn’t drop the whole time. They ran out of the gates together, hand-in-hand, alive with the thrill of what they’d done. They’d outplayed the entity. They’d won.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night they all returned safely to the campfire, with no sacrifices to wait in the woods for and no cold, sick feelings of guilt waiting in the pits of their hearts. They slept easy, none more so than Dwight - or at least David hoped so, because when he drifted off the smaller man was curled up on his chest, pawing at the cloth of his torn shirt like a satisfied cat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was hard to count the nights in the entity’s realm. Even the trials seemed to blend together, silent cornfield into chittering swamp, leaving David unsure of the offerings they’d made and when.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he couldn’t say for certain when he started to worry that Dwight might be in too deep. Maybe it was when he woke to an empty space by his side where Dwight should’ve been, or when he’d found him scrabbling in the dirt so deep in the forest that he almost tripped over him in the dark. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The worst of it came after David returned from the hook, where he still ended up sometimes, normally after shoving Dwight into a locker and charging madly into the killer’s arms. That’s when the phantom wound in his shoulder burned with pain, kept him from sleeping, kept him from quietly ignoring Dwight as he pored over some manky old journal he’d dug up in the woods and whispered weird incantations to the fire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dwight,” he said at last, when he caught his partner dragging what looked like a human leg-bone to the pyre, “I think this stuff is dangerous.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Dwight said nothing. He only twitched, and watched the damn thing burn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were in that dark, rocky area that always reminded David of the quarry he used to play in as a kid. Lots of rusting machinery. Lots of holes to get stuck in, if you weren’t watching your feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dwight and the others were nowhere to be seen. Since that first burning they hadn’t found another shroud, or anything that worked the same. David crept along the wall towards the first generator he saw, trying not to think about the kinds of trouble Dwight might be getting into. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His sense of unease only grew as the generators popped around him. It was the same kind of feeling he used to get when an unfamiliar face wandered into the bar and started mouthing off to the wrong people. Something bad was going to happen - he just didn’t know what.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tension snapped with a scream from somewhere in the distance. David’s heart leapt into his mouth - that was Dwight’s scream. He gave up on creeping and ran as fast as he dared towards the corner where the sound had come from. All the while, he kept thinking:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His instincts caught him just in time, and he dived behind a nearby pile of rubble right as the killer - the big bloke with the cleaver - strode past him, Dwight slung over his shoulder and fighting to escape. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why aren’t they going to the hook?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe the killer was taunting them. Maybe David was being lured, right now, into a trap. But he didn’t think about it too hard - he just followed, quickly but quietly, to the shack the killer had chosen. It was a half-ruined construction, with plenty of holes in the wood for David to peek through. Against his better judgement, he did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The killer hefted Dwight off his back and let him fall to the dirt floor with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thunk. </span>
  </em>
  <span>For the first time David was grateful that the trial wouldn’t let him yell. Without giving Dwight the chance to collect himself the killer yanked him up by his shirt collar and pinned him to the wall a full foot off the ground. David crawled to the window and peered over the ledge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The killer dragged his machete down the wood with a terrible grating sound, just inches from Dwight’s ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> David clenched his fist. He just had to create a distraction -</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me give you a word of advice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David froze. The killer’s voice was strangled, grating - and absolutely unfamiliar. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They’re not supposed to talk. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The killer leaned in closer to Dwight, who turned away from the leering mask with a small whimper. David could taste blood. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t buy your way out.” The killer hissed, and in one jerking motion buried his fist in Dwight’s stomach. He cried out and dropped to the floor, freed from the killer’s grasp at last.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>earn </span>
  </em>
  <span>your way out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David didn’t trust himself to keep quiet. A hand crept up to cover his mouth as the killer matched the blow with a steel-capped boot. This time the noise Dwight made was less of a cry than a cough. The third time it was a gasp, a barely-audible -</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, don’t -” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>kick, “</span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t want anything,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud, </span>
  </em>
  <span>“it can give you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David was frozen. He’d seen a lot of beatings in his time, seen a lot of big, nasty bullies - fuck, he’d been one of them - but never in all his life had he felt so fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>helpless</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. What had this place </span>
  <em>
    <span>done </span>
  </em>
  <span>to him? He had both hands over his mouth now, the tears flowing freely and unprompted as he listened to Dwight suffer just two feet through the wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After what seemed like an age Dwight fell silent, but the blows kept raining down. David willed himself to do something, anything, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’s killing him for fuck’s sake</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but his body just wouldn’t move. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then there was light. With a great mechanical roar the last generator sprang to life, flooding the trial with golden light. There was silence from inside the shack, and then the sound of heavy footsteps heading off into the distance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With no more than a quick glance to ensure the killer was gone David leapt through the window and over to Dwight’s side. He was unconscious all right, ribs broken, blood pooling in the corner of his mouth. For a horrible second David felt relieved that they were here in the entity’s realm and not somewhere Dwight could actually die from his injuries. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They didn’t have much time. David set to work patching up the injuries he could, hoping that the entity’s weird powers would cover for the gaps in his medical knowledge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever he did it seemed to do the trick, because Dwight’s eyelids fluttered open, and after a moment or two he was even able to focus on David.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” the bigger man mouthed silently, “I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dwight only stared in palpable confusion. Somewhere in the distance, the exit gates groaned open. David’s head snapped up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We have to go </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>now.</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hauled Dwight to his feet, supporting him with one shoulder. He hoped the others stuck around long enough to distract the killer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slowly, painfully, they made their way to the exit, stopping every few minutes while David nuzzled Dwight back into consciousness. The ground beneath them rumbled, and Dwight shook his head, pulling away. They knew the drill by now - this meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>just leave me here</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no fucking way David was leaving him here. They struggled on towards the exit as the trial collapsed around them. The others would surely have escaped by now. It was just them and the killer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There! The lights of the gate were more welcoming than ever. David pushed on, half-dragging Dwight at this point. They were nearly - there - </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The killer stepped into view seconds before they reached the exit. The bastard had been hiding here all along, David realised, waiting for them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opened his mouth to ask what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>this bastard thought he was doing, but of course, no sound came out. Dwight was trembling in his arms. The killer stared down at them, an impassive mask. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then, a miracle happened. The killer stepped aside, one arm outstretched as if to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>go right ahead. </span>
  </em>
  <span>David looked up at him, warily. There had to be more to this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A little hope can be a dangerous thing.” The killer intoned, and nodded his head towards Dwight. David grit his teeth. Message received. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pushed past the killer, feeling slightly dizzy as he ducked under that massive, burnt-flesh arm. They were free.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least until the next time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was my fault.” Dwight murmured one night, after it was just him and David left at the campfire. It was the first thing he’d said since the incident, and it came out cracked and wavering.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waved off David’s protest before it started.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I could use those offerings to - to-” he moved his hands about, trying to find the right words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To buy a way out.” David finished the sentence for him. He’d had a while now to think over what the killer had said in their last trial, and he reckoned he understood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wanted to convince, you know-” David made a spidery grabbing motion with his hands “-to let you go. Is that it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dwight looked at him, distraught. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” David asked. They’d already spoken about what happened. Surely Dwight wasn’t angry with him now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Both of us.” He muttered at last, looking down into the fire. “I wanted both of us out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Dwight…” David pulled Dwight in close, burying his nose in his hair. “You didn’t have to do that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was worth it,” Dwight mumbled. David sensed that this was the beginning of a proper cry. “I thought - I just wanted-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David shushed and ruffled his hair as Dwight’s tears began to soak through his shirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” he said, “it’s okay.” He felt right then like he could march on up to the entity, wherever it was, and tear it a new one. Anger flowed up through him and ebbed back down again, reduced to a resigned kind of hate. He would never get the chance. They were powerless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He clutched at Dwight as though he might be torn away at any second - fuck, he could be - and tried to remind himself that right now they were okay. Right now it was just the two of them, safe and sound as they could possibly be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The flames danced. Sooner or later they’d have their next meal. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>